Dark of Night
by Kavi Leighanna
Summary: Victim seemed to be her middle name. First Cyrus, now this. Emily was starting to wonder if it would ever stop. Emily/Hotch
1. Chapter 1

**_Welcome to my nightmare - I mean, a new story!_**

**_This idea's been floating around in my head for a while so I thought I'd take a shot at writing it. I know, I know, another story, why is she doing this. Because there are days I simply don't want to write fluff. Unfortunately or fortunately (I'm not sure which yet) BAU has turned into a mostly fluffy piece. This one, however, aims to be a bit darker, I'm kind of hoping. Of course, as we are all aware, writing doesn't always turn out the way we want it to and the characters decide to take different pathways than you were hoping._**

**_Naturally, there are a few things that need to be covered before I can let you guys get to the actual story:_**

**_1) There will be no regular updates. Please don't bother me about it. I know this story exists and I don't have any intention of forgetting to write it. Having said that, I also have other things to do. Writing isn't the only thing in my life, so there's a really good chance updates, though probably almost weekly, may not come the next day._**

**_2) This is in no way shape or form connected to any of my other stories. Just felt I should say that._**

**_I think that's it!_**

**_Oh, and, as always, reviews are highly appreciated and well loved. I may even reply!  
_**

* * *

CHAPTER ONE

She'd promised herself she wouldn't be afraid, swore to herself that there was no way this _man_ could make her feel weak or less than she was. She was smarter than that, more successful than that. He couldn't make her feel small, couldn't make her do anything she didn't want to. She struggled against the ropes tying her wrists together as best she could, squirming on the mattress of the bed he'd tied her to. She would get out of this.

She froze, dark eyes wide, as the door opened. _He_ walked in, smug, grinning and walking like he owned the place. She tried not to let the fear show, tried to hide her pain. He'd given her quite the beating last time around and her body was still smarting from the pain. His hand trailed down her side and she stared back at him mutinously. He wasn't going to break her. He couldn't break her.

That didn't mean his hand making contact with her cheek didn't take her by surprise any more than normal. Then he was on top of her and no matter how much she struggled there was nothing she could do to keep him from ripping off her pants. She struggled and struggled and struggled. He hit her time and time and time again. She counted herself lucky for passing out before anything else registered.

* * *

Supervisory Special Agent Emily Prentiss sat bolt upright with a gasp. It took her brain a few moments to register that she was in her apartment, not in that damned compound. She was safe, at home, with her door locked. It had only been a nightmare.

It took her mind a few more moments to register that the phone was ringing. With a heavy sigh she clicked it on. She recognized JJ's number. "Prentiss."

"Sorry, I know it's early."

Emily glanced over at her clock. 4am. She sighed. "It's no problem. What's up?"

"We've got a case. Calling in the cavalry."

Emily looked around her room, at the mess it usually wasn't. "Give me twenty minutes."

"Call Derek."

Climbing out of bed, Emily hit the second speed dial number on her phone. She and Derek were closer than close so Emily didn't think much of calling him at 4am. He'd talked her down from a large number of nightmares in the past. She'd done the same. It was just the way their relationship worked. JJ knew that no matter what, Derek would pick up the phone for Emily.

"Em?"

"Hey."

"Nightmare?"

"Case." She winced. Short answers meant she was struggling. It was an unconscious thing on her part.

"Both," Derek surmised. "Want me to pick you up?"

"Are you going to be more than fifteen minutes?"

Derek's chuckle floated through the phone. He had an uncanny ability of being right on time, squeezing in just before it was necessary. "For you, I'll be less than ten."

"I'm not Garcia."

"Trust me, girl, I know. I'll bring chocolate."

"I've got coffee. Don't be late."

Much to her surprise he wasn't. His travel mug and hers in hand, she climbed into the Bureau-standard SUV.

"Tell me about it?" he asked as she carefully secured his coffee in one of the two slots.

"I'd rather not," Emily replied, sipping her own.

"Friend to friend?" he inquired as he handed over her package of peanut M&Ms. She always loved the salt-chocolate mix. "You look like shit."

"Why thanks. Exactly what a girl wants to hear this early in the morning." She flipped down the visor above her, checking her reflection in the mirror. She looked a little tired. To her profiling self, she looked worn.

"Take time. It won't kill you."

"I'm fine, Derek," she fought back, ripping open the chocolate after flipping the visor back into place.

He hummed. "JJ get you to call?"

"You went out last night?"

"I invited you."

Emily wrinkled her nose. "I'd rather not be left behind thanks." They'd been lucky to draw a Virginia case the last time, but it had worn them all. Two cases back to back like this – plus the continuing recovery of Colorado, Reid still couldn't look her in the eye – wasn't going to be pretty. It was the first time since she'd gotten the pain pill prescription for her cracked ribs that she'd taken one. Even that hadn't kept the nightmares at bay.

They made the rest of the drive to Quantico in silence and Emily knew Derek was hoping she'd drop off to sleep. She sighed. The nightmares were brutal, sure, but they'd all dealt with them before. She'd dealt with them before. She still had the odd nightmare about Jane and Frank jumping in front of the train, of Gideon's Sarah bloody on Gideon's bed. They came and they went. It was just what happened. The latest batch of her back in the compound with Cyrus would pass in time.

Spencer Reid was just getting on the elevator when they arrived. "Morning!" he squawked, meeting Derek's eyes but not Emily's.

"Hey Reid," Derek answered, darting a glance between his colleagues. He knew it bothered Emily that the young doctor was still feeling guilty. It had been Emily's choice to take the hit and in Derek's humble opinion, regardless of what Reid had gone through with Henkel, Emily knew she could handle whatever Cyrus had dished out. Reid, on the other hand, was a little more fragile. He knew Emily would make the same decision again, even if she knew what was going to happen.

The elevator ride was eerily silent. Emily sipped her coffee, both hands wrapped tightly around the travel mug. It was the only outward sign of her discomfort and annoyance. Both men let Emily precede them out of the elevator, following her directly up to the conference room. Jennifer "JJ" Jareau was already there, files neatly in front of every place. She greeted them with a grim smile.

"Hotch and Rossi are in their offices," she said. "Garcia should be here shortly."

Silence reigned as it usually did when they were called on cases in the early hours of the morning. More often than not, they were the most gruesome, the worst of the worst, and everyone had their own way of going about preparing for those.

And this one didn't look to be shaping up much different.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

"Hotch?"

Supervisory Special Agent In Charge Aaron Hotchner looked up from where he was perusing the file for the fourth time. JJ had passed it on to him the previous night and it had been he who had put out the full alert so early in the morning. But the team didn't have to know that. He'd taken one look at each one of the victims' pictures and his heart had frozen in his chest.

Jessica Malone, 38, worked in the highest echelons of a Columbus, Ohio PR firm. Her eyes were dark, her hair coal black.

Addison Howard, 35, was a high-power accountant at one of the biggest Columbus firms. The file listed her eye colour as brown and her hair colour as brown.

Kelly Wright, 35, held the ADA position. Her hair was more of a russet colour, but her eyes were dark.

But it was Lauren Sheldon, FBI Unit chief of the Columbus office, that had metaphorically punched him in the gut.

Pale skin. Dark hair. Dark eyes. The same features that had haunted him since Colorado. Agent Prentiss' features. _Emily's_ features.

"Dave."

"They're waiting."

Hotch sighed as he closed the folder and followed Rossi to the conference room. Sure enough, the whole team was gathered there, some looking a little more worse for wear than others. He took in their positions at the table grimly. It was sometimes terrifying how the residual emotions of Colorado played themselves out even here. Reid had his eyes fixed on the blank screen at the front of the room, his fingers weaving and releasing. Hotch knew he was still having trouble coming to terms with what Emily had gone through to protect him.

Emily sat three seats away, sipping at coffee in a travel mug, eyes a million miles away. Derek sat to her left, darting glances at her every once in a while, but mainly focused on their technical analyst, Penelope Garcia, seated between him and Reid. JJ stood at the front of the room, stomach bulging with her pregnancy but politely waiting for the last two members to sit. They did, Hotch taking the seat next to Emily, like he had every briefing since Colorado, and Rossi taking the one to his right.

"Four women have been found dead in Columbus Ohio in the last six months," JJ began, not bothering to greet anyone or wish them a good morning. No good morning started with a case. And no good morning started as early as theirs had.

* * *

Why the hell did it always have to be her? Or at least it felt that way. These days, it wasn't that far from the truth either. Emily sat, eyes closed, head tilted back against the seat of the FBI jet. Derek sat across from her, a comfortable presence as his foot accidentally tapped against hers with his music. Emily didn't mind. It was relaxing to know that he was there. Hotch boxed her in on the other side, a notion that, again, didn't surprise her.

After Colorado, it had been his reaction that had stunned her most. It shouldn't have, now that she thought back on it. Not at all. Something had shifted in all of them after New York, during New York, and Emily found herself more comfortable around her supervisor. Something about him didn't scream at her 'cold, aloof'. It was quieter, more subdued and Emily had briefly wondered how much of it had to do with Agent Joyner's death. Mind, she'd been the first one in the hospital to inquire as to how he was holding up. She'd been there when the excavator had triggered the unbearable pain in his ear.

What had probably surprised her the most was the look on his face when she'd come limping out of the Cyrus' compound. He'd looked so intensely relieved that she'd had to turn to see the others come out. She was sure she would have done something stupid, like hug him close, if she hadn't. Instead, she'd hugged Reid. There had been an odd look on his face when she'd eventually faced him again.

Still, his warmth at her side was a welcome safety. Because even though Derek was the one that had come bursting through the doors, it was Hotch she credited with the rescue. She opened her eyes when his hand nudged her hip to get attention. She took the folder he slid towards her without thought. She probably wouldn't need it by the end of the flight. This was already starting to feel like a case that would stick with her.

"Columbus PD linked the victims by this," JJ's voice came floating through the computer on the table, startling everyone sitting around. "Right hip, every time."

"Pretty specific MO," Rossi agreed, dropping his picture of the mark on the table.

"No signs of break and enter in the home," Emily said absently. "And they were all assaulted in their own homes."

"We know he's got a type," Derek said unnecessarily. "What we don't know is why."

"Someone he knew that looked like these women ticked him off," Rossi responded as if it was obvious.

"But what? We can't put out a press release that says all dark-haired, dark-eyed women need to look out," JJ replied. "We need something more specific."

Emily felt Hotch move marginally closer at the same time her heart leapt uncomfortably. Much to her surprise, it jumped again at the feeling of him brushing against her. She tried not to make her deep breath audible. "We need to find out what specifically triggered him to make our UNSUB go after these women. It can't just be her looks."

"Jobs?" Derek volunteered, his foot starting to tap against Emily's foot again. She'd once told him it was a comfort. "All high-power, high food chain jobs."

"Garcia," Hotch ordered and JJ's face on the screen was exchanged for the tech's. "I want to know if these women shared as much as the same stroller when they were kids."

"Starting the cross-reference now," Garcia promised. "I compared Agent Sheldon's case load with our girls though and unfortunately I've got nothing. I'm in the process of dumping credit cards and phone records. I can run it simultaneously."

"You do that," Hotch agreed, not looking at the screen but flipping through the folder in front of him.

Emily shrugged when Garcia arched her eyebrow. His shortness had no explanation in her mind either. "Call."

"Always. We're out."

* * *

Emily dropped her head into the folded arms on the table she'd been using. Part of her understood the mentality behind assigning her to victimology. It was the way the men of her team had chosen to protect her. She knew that at least part of the decision had everything to do with Colorado and the beating she'd taken, but that didn't make her any happier to be assigned to precinct duty. And between her and Garcia, they hadn't been able to link any more details. It was driving her crazy. It would have been easier to understand if they'd been able to find something, but that hadn't been the case. It would probably be easier if she'd had JJ too. The away cases without the blond always felt like they were missing something. Adding to that the shock it had been to see the pictures of all of their victims and realize one of them had been and FBI unit chief was starting to batter her brain. It was an interesting feeling for her already battered body.

Voices brought her head up again, though slower than she would have preferred.

"Hey there, Princess. Sleeping on the job?"

Emily wasn't exactly in the mood for Derek's coddling and he only ever called her 'Princess' when she was at her worst. She shot him a glare. "The searches so far have turned up nothing."

Derek arched an eyebrow at her snappy attitude. "That isn't like my Baby Girl."

She would only mentally admit to being thankful when Derek's accompanying LEO left. "She's still looking."

He glanced around, closing the conference room door behind him as he made his way to her side. "She always finds something."

"I'm sorry," she said on a sigh, running a hand through her hair. "I just-"

"Feel like we're watching too closely."

She glanced up with a small smile. "That obvious?"

"I thought you were going to strangle Hotch when he ordered you on victimology."

She wasn't going to dignify that. "Anything?"

"No," he replied. "Sounds like Jessica Malone lived for her job. Not unusual."

Emily sighed. "No, no its not."

She knew Derek wasn't stupid enough to miss her underlying thoughts. "Tomorrow Hotch wants to do the professional interviews. At least if Hotch, Reid and Rossi come back with the same results we'll have something more to go on.

"When they get back we'd better be going to eat," Emily responded. "Reading made me hungry." She burst out laughing hysterically when Derek's stomach growled loudly.

"Oh yeah?" he asked, eyebrow raised in challenge, devilish smile on his face.

Emily squealed but couldn't get away fast enough. His fingers dug into her sides and skimmed across her stomach and Emily laughed harder. Until the clearing of a throat brought their attention to none other than their severe-looking supervisor.

And if Emily didn't know better, she'd have said he looked jealous.


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

He'd been able to tell he hadn't hid his jealous well enough by the shocked and wondering sparkle in her eyes. It felt slightly foreign to him to be jealous of Derek. He'd long known Emily and Derek were the best of friends, so his feelings had taken him by surprise. Maybe it was the case and the knowledge that Emily fit the victim typology so closely. Colorado was not far enough in the past for him not to want to protect her with everything in him. Because his team had become his family.

And she… well, he wasn't completely sure what she'd become. He'd figured out quickly that she was more complex than even he'd anticipated. Hotch realized he probably should have expected that she wouldn't be as black and white as the other members of the team. Still, he'd expected to be able to get a better handle on her in the last few months. But time and time again, she'd surprised him. He'd found himself filing the little details of Emily away.

For example, her obvious interest in the stars. It would take an astronomy buff to pinpoint the stab wounds in Ohio. Or her obvious ability to be completely in tune with each member of the team. He'd seen her slip JJ some of her own M&Ms. And ee Hotch knew Emily did not easily part with her chocolate. And that was only recently. Rossi had once asked her about Penelope after she'd been shot. And it seemed like taking care of Reid was second nature to her. He knew Reid looked at her like an older sister and in the wake of Gideon's departure, it was exactly what Reid needed.

It terrified him that he'd become so hyper-aware of the woman seated in the passenger's seat beside him, passed out. It terrified him almost more that it had seriously snuck up on him. The intense emotion of seeing her alive had sent his head spinning almost painfully. And now she was dead asleep and each one of the five of them in the car knew why. Rossi and Derek were murmuring in the backseat, trying to keep their conversation quiet to let her sleep. She'd dropped off almost immediately upon climbing into the car.

It showed she was struggling and Hotch knew the team saw it, even if she pretended like they didn't. It bothered him that she wasn't taking proper care of herself. Especially after Cyrus had used her as a punching bag. Nightmares were expected and he knew Morgan, Garcia and JJ had all tried to get her to take at least a few days off.

Hotch swung the car into the parking lot of a small restaurant only a few blocks from their hotel. They were all hungry. There was a mass movement to unbuckle seatbelts and get out of the car. All except one Emily Prentiss. He exchanged a glance with Derek through the rearview mirror and almost cursed the man when he shrugged and got out of the car. He sighed trying to figure out how best to wake her when all he wanted to do was let her sleep. His hand reached out to gently shake her shoulder. "Emily."

The next thirty seconds happened so fast he almost didn't get a chance to defend himself. Hotch had only a split second to read the fear in her dark eyes before her fist came around to strike at his head. He caught her wrist, but just barely.

"Emily." His voice was firm but soft, trying to get her to focus. She struggled against the grip he had on her wrist and aimed the other one at him. He held on to both wrists, but he held on, grip only just tight enough to restrain her. "Emily."

Her eyes cleared slowly and the struggling stopped as her brain caught up with where she was. "I'm sorry, sir."

Hotch didn't reply, just slowly released her wrists, fingers absent-mindedly stroking the skin on the inside of her wrist as she pulled them back towards her. It had been a long time since she'd called him 'sir', and he wasn't sure how he felt about it. "We'll go back to the hotel right after dinner."

"Why?" she asked, glancing away.

"Call it early," he replied diplomatically. "We'll get a good night, hit the ground running tomorrow."

Emily arched an eyebrow at him before punishing open her door. He followed suit, meeting her at the front of the car. "Isn't that a waste of time?"

"There's no guarantee, he's picked another victim and we've been working all day. I think we can allow ourselves an early night tonight."

She sighed as he held open the door and paused. "Derek told me looked exhausted," she said. "But I'm fine."

Hotch mirrored her earlier eyebrow arch as he followed her to the table. He slid in beside her trying to ignore the scent of vanilla that assaulted his nostrils.

"Good morning, sleepyhead!" Derek exclaimed. "How was your nap?"

Hotch tried not to smile.

* * *

_She was a whore, just like the rest of them. She sat there, joking and laughing with the men she was with, four of them, obviously all colleagues. And he'd bet she'd had every single one. She was just trying to look like she belonged. She didn't. Not with the men like the ones sitting around the table. Not at all._

_She looked much like the last one he'd had. That had felt good… really good. Better than really good. He bit his lip, well aware the urge was coming faster. That itch he wanted to scratch and it was here again. And she'd make a very good addition. She'd never know what hit her, but he'd teach her to sleep her way up. Women always did in big corporate companies. Who cared that it was a ragtag group of individuals sitting at that table. She was the only woman and she looked sophisticated enough to be higher up on the food chain. She was asking for it. _

_He'd have to keep an eye on her, figure out where she worked, what she was doing, where she lived… he'd figure it all out._

_Then he'd have her.

* * *

  
_

The hair on Emily's neck was standing on end and she had no idea why. She tried to hide a frustrated sigh, but knew the man beside her had heard it. And he was part of what was frustrating her. Recently, her instincts had been on haywire because of her supervisor. Her boss had the hair on the back of her neck standing with barely a look and it was starting to annoy her. Like now, when she could feel his entire side pressed against hers, or on the plane where he'd sat close enough to brush. The number of times she'd lost track of her train of thought was more annoying than telling.

And it had thrown off her gut instinct. It was why she often gravitated towards Derek during cases and she knew Hotch saw it. He'd been sure to pair her with other people, though what disconcerting look never left the depths of his eyes. It took all of her strength and will power to make sure what she was feeling didn't show and it took every ounce of concentration to focus on her gut instinct and not the way her heart had a tendency to jump when he was near.

He'd shot her a look at her sigh and she'd managed a smile, her eyes darting around the restaurant. A waiter across the restaurant caught her eye and she smiled politely and briefly. Her stomach clenched and her body tensed when he kept his eyes fixed on her. Everything spooked her lately and she _hated_ it. She was an FBI agent for Pete's sake! One of the best of the most elite unit in the Bureau. The nightmares came with the job, this jumpiness didn't.

The end of dinner had come faster than she'd thought and her thoughts were broken as the waitress came back to drop off their bills. Derek smiled and flirted as he paid, before they filed out of the restaurant.

When Emily chanced a glance backwards, the waiter was still watching her.

* * *

**_Sorry this took so long. School and life took an interesting turn and time was minimal at best. It'll be another little bit before I get a chance to update again. I want to get a new BAU chapter up before I write the next chapter of this baby and I have 3 papers due in the next two weeks. _**

**_Patience and reviews are always appreciated!_**


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

Emily sighed as she stepped out of the shower in sweatpants and a t-shirt, a towel still going through her hair. The knock at her door had drawn her from the bathroom. She rolled her eyes when she recognized Derek on the other side. "What?"

"That's not a very nice greeting."

"Derek, I want to go to bed," Emily replied, annoyed. "I'm exhausted."

"I'm just checking on you," Derek replied carefully. He knew he was treading scary ground even being there, but knowing that each of these women fit his best friend down to almost the smallest detail scared him. She was dealing with enough right now without having to add a case where she was a virtual victim to that list.

"I am fine," Emily said almost through clenched teeth, stepping aside to let him in. "Is there a particular reason you're all hovering?"

"We?"

"You for one. Hotch for another."

Derek raised an eyebrow. "Hotch?"

"He's been watching me," Emily said as she plopped down on the bed, dropping her towel beside her.

"Okay…"

"He was the one who suggested we come back early. Apparently an early night means hitting the ground running tomorrow," she replied, running a hand through her knotted hair, pulling some of the tangles out along the way.

"And you don't believe him?"

"You said it yourself, I look like crap."

"Doesn't take a profiler to see that."

"Well I don't need to be coddled, okay? I know what I'm doing."

"What you are doing is running yourself ragged."

Emily rolled her eyes. "Thanks."

Derek shrugged. "Anything I can do to help."

"Is it that bad?" she asked with a sigh. "Is it really that obvious?"

"There was a reason we told you to take time off, Em."

She looked over at him as he took a seat on the bed beside her. "I can't."

"You can. None of us will think any less of you."

She managed a small smile. "I…"

"You're going to head to bed," he finished for her. He ruffled her hair as he stood up and headed for the door. "You know where I am when you need me."

"When?"

He just smirked as he pulled open the door. Then he stopped. "Hotch, hey."

"Morgan."

Emily's head snapped up at the sound of her supervisor's voice. What was he doing there of all places? He should be in bed or working on files or calling Jack. And she wasn't wearing a bra. Talk about awkward. She stood, folding her arms under her breasts. And how was she supposed to try and get some sleep when the team seemed to be alternating coming to visit? She stopped at the end of the short hallway past the bathroom, watching both men.

"Night Em."

Oh, she was now seriously considering killing Derek later.

"Emily."

She tried not to shiver at the use of her first name. "Hotch."

"May I?"

She nodded with a sigh, waiting until he passed to hit the bathroom again. The least she could do was throw her hair up so it didn't look like a complete rat's nest. She sung silent praises when she realized she'd left her clothes in there. "Is something wrong?"

"I want you to take time off."

"Now?" she asked, poking her head back out the door in surprise, one hand holding her tangled dark hair up.

"After this case."

"Hotch, for the last damn time, I'm fine." She knew she was bordering on insubordinate, but what else could she do? At home, she would simply think about everything, focus on what was tearing her apart. Working she could focus on other things, push her nightmares to the back of her mind. She like that idea so much better. He hadn't said anything and it disconcerted her. She stepped out of the bathroom, bra securely fastened, hair yanked up into a messy bun at the back of her head. "Hotch?"

He was seated on the bed, hands resting on his knees. He'd obviously left his suit jacket in his room and he'd rolled up the sleeves on his shirt. Emily tried to stamp down an unwelcome shot of arousal. He looked good a little more rumpled than usual.

"You've been through a lot."

"Nothing no one else has been through before," she replied, stopping all of five feet from him. Her arms crossed again, defensive and protective. "You're not pressuring Reid to go home."

She made a good point and it showed in the micro-expressions in his face.

"I appreciate the concern," she began carefully, "but I'm fine."

"You're exhausted."

"It happens. It hasn't affected my job."

--

_He watched her, had followed her back to the hotel where she was staying with her colleagues. He'd seen the African-American come and go, had watched the way they interacted. They were too close to be colleagues. She'd probably slept with him too, the little whore. Then _he'd _come in. The same guy in the suit she'd been sitting close to in his diner. He knew he was right. He was always right. _

_And now the guy was stepping closer to her, ever closer. And she wasn't moving away. Of course she wasn't moving away. Why would she? Why should she? They were sleeping together, of course. She'd probably worked her way up the chain in her team too. The African-American was only one on her conquering list up to her boss._

_He couldn't watch anymore, couldn't watch them actually…. He growled, turning away. She was next, had to be next. He was going to clear the world of these types of ladder-climbing whores if it was the last thing he did!_

_--  
_

"That doesn't mean it won't. You're exhausted, we can all see it."

"Which is why we're back here now," she said, tightening the grip on her arms, eyes flashing. "Which means I should probably get to bed."

He knew he was treading a delicate line. Her eyes were blazing, her voice deliberately calm. "Emily-"

"What?" Temper and irritation were leaking into her voice now. It wasn't all that much of a surprise. She was getting angry.

He had no idea what had come over him, had no idea why he was still stepping closer to her. He couldn't stop himself from doing it either, couldn't seem to keep himself in check.

"What is it Hotch? Am I… more fragile? Am I any more of a mess? I spent three days in that compound, no more than Reid did and I'm not the one with a drug history!"

It was terrifying to watch her. She was breaking down right in front of him and he knew that. He hadn't expected it. She'd kept so strong in front of them all up to this point, and though he knew she was having nightmares, the team knew she was having nightmares, she'd never exhibited any sign of breaking down or having it all finally express itself. "Hey," he said gently, stepping forward again. "Reid wasn't the one beaten in that compound. Reid wasn't the one that came out of there with a black eye, cut lip and cracked ribs."

She didn't pull away when his hands came up to cup her elbows. She wasn't looking at him either, her head having dropped after her outburst. She was shaking and he guessed it was with suppressed tears. He had no idea why he was there, what had driven him to check on her. Maybe it was the fact that she'd fallen asleep, dead to the world, after being in the SUV for five minutes. Maybe it was because he remembered the intense relief at seeing her alive and the way his heart clenched at her injuries. Maybe it was because he could see that she needed support she wasn't willing to ask for.

"Emily…"

Then she was against him, in his arms, and he just held on.

--

_He hadn't been able to leave. He'd had to watch her, watch this unfold. She'd fallen so easily into his arms, the same way she'd looked comfortable so close to him at the diner. And colleagues shouldn't be that comfortable with each other. Ever. _

_So he's show her what whores got. And he was going to enjoy every minute of it.

* * *

  
_

_**I**** really feel like I should be listening to really sinister music instead of Michael Buble, but my iTunes isn't always that intuitive. **_

_**Let me know what you guys thought of this particular installment!**  
_


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

She hadn't protested when Hotch had assigned her victimology. She rarely ever complained and this time, she was simply too exhausted. And she felt a little awkward. She'd completely broken down on him, staining his shirt with her tears. It was embarrassing, really, to fall apart on him. Derek would tease her about it, sure, but he'd keep it quiet. No one would have to know her moment of weakness, just like no one had to know he had to sleep with every door closed. He slept light enough to hear even the slightest movement.

But no. Her body had decided instead to tear itself apart when no one but her supervisor was there. And he'd done nothing but pull her into his arms and hold on tight. It was absolutely terrifying. She'd woken in the morning, cuddled tightly beneath her sheets, tucked in. Hotch was gone, but she still remembered crying on him. She'd been horribly embarrassed to find she'd cried herself to sleep on his shoulder, her hands clenched in his shirt. He'd driven her over the edge and, much to her surprise, she wasn't all that upset about it.

That didn't mean she was comfortable with it. She wasn't. At all. She preferred the Emily Prentiss he'd known before last night, the woman who could take anything and bounce back from it without a problem. She preferred that he still see her as the fighter, the strong woman that had made it in the 'boys club' of the FBI. Putting her in the precinct wasn't helping her feel any better about it either. She would have felt more confident had he assigned her to interview, to go about-

"Agent Prentiss?"

Emily looked up with an elegantly arched eyebrow.

"Agent Sheldon's team is here."

Emily wrinkled her brow, sure that someone had gone out to interview them at their office. Still, there was no reason to be rude. "Send them in," she requested, pulling out her phone. She quickly shot Hotch a text.

"Holy shit."

Emily's head shot up, startled, as she met the eyes of the first agent through the door.

"Oh, my apologies ma'am," the agent immediately apologized. "You-"

"You could be Laur's doppelganger," interrupted the agent behind him.

Emily sighed. "So I'm told. Come in gentlemen, have a seat. I'm Agent Prentiss, BAU."

Three men filed in, introducing themselves as Agents Wilde, Lucia and Heitman. Emily couldn't imagine what they were going through and coming in to be interviewed by her probably wasn't helping much. "What can you tell me about Agent Sheldon?"

"She was damned good at her job," Heitman said, running a hand through brown curly hair. "Laur was quick, smart. Got me out of a few tough situations."

"A few, Luke? Shelly saved your ass more times than we can all count. And I wasn't even on the team that long ma'am," Lucia, sharp green eyes fixed on her.

"Shelly?"

"Sheldon."

Emily's eyes flicked to the last agent, Wilde, He simply looked quieter, softer spoken than his two counterparts and she could see it in the way he held himself. It looked to her like he was taking this the hardest.

"Laur wanted to be taken seriously and she was. She and I started working together in the Bureau as rookies. We grew up together, in a way. I was floored when my orders came and she was my unit chief, but she deserved it. She worked hard for that position."

Now it made sense. "Was there anyone-"

"Other than the guys she was responsible for putting away no. Maybe a couple of women below her, but ma'am, it's nothing new."

Emily nodded. "How about men, other agents? Were there people who resented how far she'd risen?"

"Snide marks, maybe, but nothing new."

She understood. "Never any threats?"

"Nothing explicit. It didn't take much to fall in love with Laur though, metaphorically speaking," Heitman said. "She was good at her job and it's hard to resent someone rising so far in the ranks when they're good at what they do. It just takes time to get used to it."

"Anybody in her life that you know of?"

"No ma'am," Wilde spoke. "Laur was married to her job, worked harder than anyone I'd met. There was a reason she was promoted."

Emily sighed. They were getting nowhere. "What about places she frequented?"

All three men smiled almost simultaneously. "Carthey's."

"I'm sorry?" Emily asked, the corners of her mouth tilting up.

"It's a diner, ma'am. Shelly loved the place," Lucia explained. "We ate there definitely weekly, had our briefings there over breakfast. She was addicted to the waffles."

Emily jotted the name down on her file on Lauren Sheldon. "Can you think of anything else?"

"In all honesty, ma'am, it's still a little bit of a shock," Wilde said. "Women are rising more and more in the Bureau and they're all good at what they do. Look at you. Behavioural Analysis is no small cookies."

Emily felt herself blushing but nodded. It warmed her heart to know that there were men out there that admired women who worked jobs like theirs. "Thank you." She jotted down a number on a piece of paper. "This is the tip line our communications liaison has set up from Quantico. If you think of anything else, call the line and ask for Agent Jareau. Or you can come here."

"I'm sorry we couldn't be more help," Heitman said regretfully.

"We don't know that yet," Emily tried to reassure him.

Wilde was the last one to leave, and he turned back in the doorway. "Be careful ma'am. I've been watching the news, I've seen the pictures of the other victims. They all looked like Lauren. You look like Lauren."

Emily almost jolted. "I'm being careful, Agent Wilde. Thank you."

He nodded and left.

* * *

They sat around the table in the same diner they had the previous night, this time with their interview notes. Emily was once again sandwiched between Hotch and Reid and once again, hyper aware of her supervisor beside her. She couldn't get the previous night out of her head and now, since she'd decidedly and determinedly set her embarrassment aside, her brain had focused on other things. Like how strong her felt around her.

Emil wished she could slap herself in the head. There had to be a rational explanation as to why she was so aware of the man beside her. And it definitely couldn't be what Garcia and JJ had sworn up and down

"_Of course you're aware of him, Em," JJ said glancing at her friend over the rim of her tea mug. Garcia had stepped out to refill her own beverage leaving JJ to answer the webcam link to the team. "You should be with how much he watches you."_

"_What?" Emily asked in absolute confusion. "Watches me?"_

"_You haven't noticed?"_

"_Well, we're friends-"_

"_I'm not talking friend, Em. You didn't see him on the other end of that wire in Colorado, okay? We did, well I did. Dave and Derek were too busy listening."_

"_JJ, in English."_

"_He looked completely torn apart listening to you on the other end of that wire. And the last time I can remember him curling in on himself like he did after that was when Haley had left."_

"_That doesn't mean anything. We were friends, he was worried."_

"_He was worried about _you_."_

"_Who was?" Garcia had returned. _

"_Hotch. Worried about Em."_

"_Well of course," Garcia agreed dropping down into the other chair. "He's finally realized she's right in front of his nose and the perfect way to get over his ex-wife."_

"_Garcia! I'm not a rebound."_

"_Oh please, you think Hotch could do a rebound? Not a chance. That man was meant to be intense and passionate," Garcia replied, waving off Emily's thoughts. "You wouldn't be a rebound, honey, but let me tell you, if I got the chance, I'd definitely take it."_

"_What about Kevin?" Emily asked, hoping to deflect attention._

"_Ever heard the phrase window shop but buy at home? And with our team, window shopping is frequent," Garcia answered. _

"_We're getting off track. Em's freaking out because Hotch is making her all hot and bothered," JJ interrupted. _

"_About time he did too. I was starting to wonder if you really were a hot-blooded woman," Garcia responded. _

"_You too?" Emily groaned. "Look, I admit, there have been weird looks lately-"_

"_And he makes sure to sit beside you whenever he can. And he still stayed to check on you last night, by your own admission, even after Derek left. And you're all upset that he's put you on victimology two days in a row when really all he's trying to do is protect you," JJ said, wrinkling her nose as she looked down at a broken nail. She hated rough edges._

"_You're all overanalyzing this," Emily protested._

"_Well, at least be honest and admit you are hot and bothered for him, his own feeling aside," Garcia said, her gaze on a different computer screen as she typed a few things in. Their search was still going. _

"_He's my boss."_

"_Uh huh," Garcia agreed as if it was a simple statement of fact and didn't have the underlying connotations. _

"_I can't."_

_JJ rolled her eyes. "You won't. There's a difference."_

"_He's my boss. I'm pretty sure that makes it a can't."_

"_Hotch plays it close to the vest," Garcia said, before JJ and Emily could argue the minutest point. "You'll never believe us until his tongue is in your mouth."_

"_Garcia! I don't have headphones in!"_

"_Yeah, but the door's closed. None of you are taking any chances with your life, Agent Prentiss."_

_Emily sighed. "Which is why I'm stuck working victimology. I'm sick of them hovering."_

"_Tell me about it," Garcia agreed. "Now, here's my preliminary findings from the cross reference-"_

But Emily disagreed. Regardless of her apparently growing feelings for Hotch, he definitely didn't feel the same way. She was Haley's opposite, Kate's opposite and from that she'd gleaned he had a type anyway. She didn't match it.

"Em?"

Emily shook her head, meeting Derek's eyes. "Sorry, what?"

"Anything from the victims?" Hotch asked intently, quietly, his eyes fixing on hers again.

"Um… not really," she said, flipping the pages in her file. "A couple of them used the same drycleaner, two used exactly the same ATM machine at a corner bank nearby their offices, they all supported some sort of charity but none in the same area… Garcia's still looking." Part of her felt bad that they had nothing more to go on. She flipped the file closed as their meals came. She started to smile her thanks, but froze. She recognized the waiter as the one that had been watching her the previous night. Luckily for her, no one said anything, though Derek shot her a concerned look. Hotch inched slightly closer.

Emily couldn't take her eyes off of the man. Something just seemed off about him, though he definitely wasn't the first person that had given her the willies. She just hadn't been prepared for this one, that was all. She knew she'd been more on edge lately, a side effect of being in the compound. She was more aware of the people around her, often protecting herself more than she had to. So it was normal for her to freak out at a gaze as intense as the waiter's had been. It was understandable and justifiable that she'd react to someone watching her closely. That was all.

That had to be all.

* * *

**_The end of this was killing me. Seriously killing me. It wouldn't write itself, probably because I'm so incredibly anxious to write the next chunk. And I am excited for it! Really excited for it! _**

**_Hopefully it won't take me as long either._**


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

_Blows and wounds cleanse away the evil._

_Pride comes before the fall._

_Cyrus' voice haunted her as she raced through nondescript halls. She couldn't get out, had nowhere to go, and there was nothing she could do to find her way out again. Everywhere she turned there was a new door that led nowhere, every step she took was painful. _

_And that surprised her. Sure she'd had problems with the cracking of her ribs and it had left her with a limp until she'd gotten them wrapped, but all in all, the pain had been bearable. Much more bearable than it was right now. Her hand flew of it's own accord to her hip. Or at least it tried._

Pain registered before anything else and startled her into a panicked awareness. She couldn't move and her brain tried to register what the hell was going on at the same time her throat let loose a reflexive scream. It came to her in bits and pieces, a burning sensation on her hip, a body on top of her, her arms pinned over her head with another hand…

Someone was in her hotel room.

And it wasn't a dream.

Emily bucked ferociously, surprising her assailant enough to throw him off of her and screamed again.

Adrenaline had her blood pounding in her ears as she watched her assailant pull out a knife. She cursed inwardly. Her gun was in the other bedside drawer, on the side she generally slept on and the same side she'd thrown him off of. Her hip was killing her and she could feel tears in her eyes.

"Emily!"

"Em! Answer me!"

Her brain couldn't register anything but pain and fear. The knife flashed in the moonlight from the now open blinds and she realized how he'd gotten in. The sliding glass door to her second-floor balcony was open, the curtains pulled back. That wasn't how she slept and she was almost certain she'd double-checked that lock when she'd gone to bed.

She could tell he was going through some sort of thought process. They stood at a stalemate on either side of the bed, he closest to the sliding glass door and she closer to the front door. She knew she could scream again and whoever was on the other side would definitely break down the door. She knew if she didn't scream and it was Derek on the other side of that door it would be coming down anyway. But she had no idea how fast her assailant was, no idea if he could get across or around the bed quick enough to get that knife into her skin.

"Emily, we're counting to five! Five, four, three, two-"

The guy took off, bolting for the balcony at the same time the door crashed inwards. Emily felt her legs collapse from underneath her and she fell in an undignified heap on the floor. Her eyes revolted against the lights being flipped on and she closed them as her hand went to cover her right hip where the burning sensation still throbbed.

"Hey!"

She didn't move at Derek's yell, if anything, she curled tighter in on herself. She yanked forcefully away from a hand on her shoulder.

"Em, it's me, its Hotch."

She whimpered, pulling away anyway, again. The hand that had settled on her shoulder turned into an arm that wrapped around her, pulling her sideways. She turned without an actual choice.

"Shh, honey, you're okay."

It was her nose that finally clued her in to the fact that it was indeed Hotch holding her, rocking her. She wasn't sure when she became so aware of what he smelled like, but her brain was in no position to be contemplating that. Tears came in earnest and she cursed herself for allowing them to come. It was bad enough without having to add another attack to the mix. This one she couldn't even blame brainwashing or any such thing. Adding that on top of the fact that crying was the ultimate form of weakness and it didn't take long for her to work herself into a right state, a mix of nerves, annoyance, irritation and blatant fear.

Hotch for his part, just held on. It broke his heart to see her so vulnerable and broken, to feel her tears soaking his neck and shirt. So he just settled his cheek on her hair and pulled her more snugly into his lap. He only started to get nervous when her sobs died down and she started shaking. "Emily?"

"I'm okay," she managed. "I am."

He didn't completely believe her and so, reached up to pull the blanket from her bed. He wrapped her in it tightly. They had to call the police, he knew that. She needed to go to the hospital, if the hand awkwardly between them was any indication. He looked up as Derek came back in, panting. The other man shook his head, indicating he hadn't been able to catch the guy.

"Have you called paramedics? Police?"

"I don't need a hospital," Emily murmured from Hotch's neck, promptly following it up with a sniffle.

"Em, you're going to get checked out," Derek said, already pulling out his cell phone.

"I'm fine," Emily repeated.

Hotch arched an eyebrow at Derek at the same time he stroked his hand down the arm she had squished between his body and hers. With a quick movement, he had her arm out from between them and his other hand half-caught her as she tumbled to the side. It was then he saw the concentric circles, the same signature he recognized from their UNSUB. He met Derek's eyes.

"I'm fine, it's just a burn."

She didn't sound fine and Hotch felt his stomach clench at how shaky she still sounded. "You need to get that burn checked out. It could get infected."

"I'm fine," she insisted again, pushing herself up and away from Hotch's arms. She winced as the skin pulled uncomfortably when she wrapped her arms around herself.

"No hospital," Derek promised, coming up and squeezing her shoulder. He didn't resist when she turned into him. Derek knew of Emily's fear of hospitals. "They should be able to take a look at it and patch you up as good as new."

Hotch knew Derek's goal was to find a compromise and though he valued the effort, he wished Emily would just go to the hospital. Still, he knew when to fold. He held her gaze when she pulled away from Derek, but stayed close. He had to stomp down the thread of jealousy.

"Okay," she agreed softly, keeping his eyes.

Hotch pushed himself up trying not to react to the way Derek's arm wrapped around Emily's shoulder again and how easily she gave into the comfort. She even stepped closer to the African-American man.

"And you can stay with me," Derek continued. "You're not going to want to stay here after CSU finishes with this place."

"Thanks, Derek," she replied softly.

Hotch couldn't stop the jump his stomach did as she avoided his eyes. What was wrong? What else was off? All he wanted to do was wrap his arms around her and hold her close, that same feeling he'd been having for weeks now.

Emily wasn't sure what to think. On one hand, she'd felt ridiculously comfortable and safe wrapped up in Hotch's arms. On the other hand, she'd spent so much time shoving those feelings aside that it was disconcerting that he seemed willing to act on them now. She had felt safe with Hotch, but Derek, she knew, was only her friend. They'd long ago figured out that a relationship between them simply wouldn't work. They shared too much with each other, found the other much too easy to talk to, to try and make a relationship work. Derek was safety without the added underlying tension.

And right now, that was what she needed,


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

_Damnit!_

_He'd almost had her. He'd had her beneath him, had branded her already. She was his!_

_Then _they'd _come in, the same men that had been at the diner with her. And _he _had been one of them. The dark haired bastard that sat so close to her, that watched her thought every meal she'd eaten at his diner. _

_He slowed now, panting. The other one had been a fast bugger. And fit too. But he didn't know the city as well. He'd lost the damn agent who knew how long ago, probably not far from the hotel. He'd want to go and check on that dark-haired whore. _

"_Oh! I'm sorry!"_

_He looked up into dark eyes. _

_Maybe the night wasn't such a wash after all.

* * *

  
_

Hotch approached the ambulance slowly and carefully, Emily's ready bag in hand. He'd managed to get it from CSU knowing she would want it and knowing she was going to need a change of clothes. Her head was down, hands folded on her knees. She looked vulnerable in blue and white plaid pajama pants and a thin blue t-shirt. She'd pulled her hair back in a ponytail. The agent in him hoped CSU had already spoken with her. The man in him wanted nothing more than to whisk her away and keep her safe from any other attacks. He stopped in front of her, setting the bag on the back of the ambulance.

"Emily?"

Her head fell forward just a little bit more, keeping her face from view.

He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do. Torn was an understatement. He wasn't sure how to deal with her. He turned when he felt a hand clapped on his shoulder.

"Em? Hey girl."

Hotch envied Derek's easy-going relationship with the brunette agent. He seemed to relate so easily to Emily in every situation. Still, she didn't say anything.

"CSU is still going through your room, but Detective Nenych wants to talk to you."

Hotch had missed the woman's presence. He found himself moving to stand on Emily's other side, automatically protective. He had to admit to surprise when she inched slightly closer subconsciously. He had no idea what to do, but she seemed to know what she wanted or needed.

"Agent Prentiss, I'm Campbell."

--

Emily grasped Derek's hand and moved her knee so that it just brushed the sweatpants on Hotch's legs. She had known Hotch was there, standing over her. She knew he'd placed her ready bag beside her in the ambulance. She hadn't been sure what he was going to do. She wasn't sure what she wanted him to do. She'd had time to think about what had occurred after the attack and though she knew that it was a reaction on her part, it still disturbed her. She cried. Outright sobbed. And in front of Hotch no less. She'd spent so long being strong that it was too difficult to reconcile the tears that had soaked the collar of his t-shirt. A t-shirt he was still wearing as he stood next to her.

"I don't remember much," she said, her voice holding a hard edge. "I woke up with him on top of me."

"Well what do you remember?"

Emily took a deep breath, tucking wisps of hair behind her ear as a nervous tick. She was almost thankful when Hotch sat down beside her, his shoulder pressing the back of hers. She took comfort in that, in the way Derek's hand was clenched tightly around her own. She blinked as the tears came again.

"I woke up to burning." Her free hand reached across to put her hand over the bandage. "He had my arms pinned over my head." She had to take another deep breath.

"Take your time," Detective Nenych encouraged.

"I fought back, surprised him I think. He had a knife. Then there was shouting, you guys," she said, voice still surprisingly strong as her head swung between her colleagues. She had no idea how she was managing to keep her voice level. "He got in through the sliding glass door. I know I locked it before I went to bed."

"Do you remember anything about him?" the detective asked, a gentle note to her voice.

Emily hated being treated like a victim, but she couldn't fault the woman for doing her job. This was the normal reaction any law enforcement agent had for a victim. "He didn't say anything and I couldn't see any of his face."

"What about height," Derek asked quietly, inadvertently interrupting.

Emily closed her eyes, squeezing his hand and leaning into Hotch slightly. She could analyze this in the morning, for now, all she needed was the comfort and support. The feeling of safety. "Yours," she said, turning to Derek. "Not much taller if at all."

"Anything particular you can remember, Miss…?"

"Agent. Agent Prentiss."

Emily felt herself stiffen at her name and rank. It only served to remind her of what she should have been able to do, the precautions she should have been smart enough to take, and the training that had failed to kick in. Hadn't she done herself a disservice by not telling anyone about the waiter who was watching her in the diner?

"Agent? Wait, you guys are here because of those other women?" The detective sounded truly surprised.

Emily sighed heavily, her head falling backwards and to the side to rest on Hotch's shoulder. "Yeah."

* * *

Hotch woke to his ringing cell phone. JJ's number was on the screen. "JJ."

"Hey, sorry it's so early."

Hotch glanced over at his alarm clock. It would be ringing in less than five minutes anyway. He'd allowed the team an extra hour's sleep after the events of the early morning. Still, it was much too early for the pregnant liaison to be up. "Are you in the office?"

Her light chuckle floated over the line. "No, boss. Caught the morning news over breakfast. We have another victim."

It hadn't even crossed his mind to make sure JJ and Garcia knew as soon as they woke up. "We know."

"You know? Locals already told you? They woke you up?"

They usually would, but this time, he didn't think it would be necessary to point it out.

"You've already seen her too, been to the crime scene."

He didn't want to tell her, he really didn't. Still, she not only deserved to know, but needed to know. Regardless of the most likely violent reaction, Emily would want her to know.

"Hotch? Who was it?" JJ asked. "Garcia's going to need the name to add to the cross-reference. I can give it to her when I get in."

"There's no need to cross-reference our newest victim," he said. "We know she has no connection to any of the other women."

"You do? So you know the woman."

"JJ, it was Emily."

There was silence on the phone. "What?"

"Our victim was Emily," he repeated. "Physically she's fine except for the brand."

"Oh my God. He… Emily?"

He knew the question wasn't really a question and hoped Will was nearby.

"I'll um…. I have to go. I'll… see what Garcia has. And I'll book you guys a new hotel."

He hated it when his team was upset, but the mask stayed in place. She was his family as much as the rest of the team and he knew this would hit her hard. Not as hard as it would affect Emily, but hard nonetheless.

"Don't worry about the hotel JJ."

"They found her a new room?"

"She stayed with Morgan."

He heard JJ blow out a breath that almost sounded like a chuckle. "Of course she did."

He really wanted to ask. Especially knowing that the tone of JJ's voice implied that she'd stayed with Derek before. He wondered how often Emily had been struggling since joining the BAU and how often she'd turned to the other man. "Make sure-"

"She'll call Em," JJ promised without him having to finish his sentence. "Should I…? Never mind. Bye Hotch."

The knock came in perfect time with him hanging up the phone. He stood, pulling back the chain and opening the door. Derek stood on the other side.

"I have seven minutes, literally. She's in the shower."

"You left her alone?" He winced at the harsh tone of his voice,

"For five minutes, she'll be fine," Derek answered, a suspicious note in his voice. "Hotch, I don't think she should go out in the field today."

"How bad?"

"She wouldn't want me to say."

He knew that. Of course he knew that. Emily was strength through and through. He already knew it would through Reid for a loop much like it had thrown JJ and Reid would see the haunted look in her eyes. They hadn't bothered to wake him the previous night. He and Rossi had both been assigned a room on a different floor. "How bad?"

"Bad," Derek conceded. "I wish she'd stay here."

They both knew better than that. That, quite simply, wasn't who Emily was at all. There was no way she would sit in the hotel all day. There was no way either of them would let her. No matter how much they wanted to.


	8. Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

She was exhausted. Derek was exhausted. She felt bad. She wished there was a way she could stop the nightmares, could find some different way to feel safe without having to share a hotel room with Derek. Sure he'd been there for her after Cyrus and she'd stayed with him after New York, but that didn't always make it easy to deal with. She'd flat out refused his gentle request that she stay in the hotel. She wouldn't feel safe there without the team around. Plus, it was less likely she'd be harassed in the precinct.

For the first time she found she wasn't against being left behind in the precinct for days in a row. Usually, she resented it when it wasn't her turn and the days before her attack she'd been irritated with the way it seemed like they were all hovering. So what if she looked like the victims? It couldn't have simply been looks that had set the guy off. And she knew who it was, or at least had a good gut feeling. There was no way that waiter was watching her in the diner the days leading up to her attack. In her job, it wasn't safe to believe in coincidences.

So what was it?

She hadn't been able to find over the last couple of days as her colleagues alternated staying with her. She had been through the files time and time again and couldn't find any connection. Garcia hadn't been able to figure out a connection between their victims either. And she wasn't even sure where she fit into all of it. Which brought her back to the diner. _Carthey's_. She'd heard the name before, she just couldn't remember the context. There had to be a connection. There had to be a reason she had been watched at the diner yesterday.

She jumped when a hand settled on her shoulder, lashing out without thought.

"Whoa, there girl."

Emily sighed at Derek's voice. "Sorry. I got caught up in my thoughts."

"About the case, I hope."

She managed a little bit of a smile, not just for him, but for Dave and Hotch who trailed in after him. "I'm trying to find what else connects these girls. It has to be something other than just their looks."

"Find it?" Hotch asked.

Emily held his eyes. "Not yet," she replied. "There's something missing."

Hotch came around the table to sit beside her. "What about these women is similar to _you_?"

She looked away, her eyes blurring and focusing on nothing. "I'm not sure," she admitted.

"Successful, smart, attractive," Hotch murmured his attention on her and not on the team. He missed Derek's eyebrow raise at the intimate tone of his voice and the words he was using.

Emily shot a skittish glance at her supervisor, uncomfortable with how close he was. "Hotch, I really don't know."

He sat back and Emily relaxed marginally. Derek stepped closer again, making sure she saw his hand before it rested on her shoulder. "Come on. Let's go back to Carthey's, get something to eat."

"No!" she exclaimed on reflex.

Derek raised an eyebrow. "Em?"

"There's something…. Lauren Sheldon's team mentioned that she liked to frequent Carthey's."

"You think it has something to do with the restaurant," Dave said.

"I know it does," Emily replied quietly.

Derek sat down on her other side, leaning in and taking her hand this time. He ignored the annoyed breath she blew out. She was trying to be strong. "What happened?"

"Someone was watching me," she said softly, unconsciously squeezing his hand. "When we were at the diner. Someone was watching me."

"And you didn't say anything?"

Emily jumped. "No, sir."

Hotch took a deep breath, aware he'd spooked her. "Why not?"

"It's not exactly the first time I've been watched, sir," she said with a wry tone to her voice. "You said it yourself, I'm successful, attractive…" She shrugged. "Guys look."

"So it was a guy?" Derek inquired, a new urgency to his voice.

Emily knew he figured she'd seen the guy. "Definitely. I don't remember much more about him."

"We're going to have to ask the people the other victims worked with," Derek said. "If Lauren Sheldon frequented Carthey's and Em got attacked because a guy was watching her there, there's our connection."

"But there's something else," Emily insisted. "There's something about me, about Agent Sheldon, that set him off while we were there. He picked us for a reason."

"Excuse me, agents?"

Much to Emily's surprise, it was Campbell Nenych who poked her head through the door. "I'm afraid we have another body."

* * *

"Violence is an understatement," Derek said, looking down at the blood and gore that marred the pavement by his feet. "This is personal."

"TOD is approximately three days ago. Maybe more. We'll know after we put together an entomological timeline."

Emily, who had refused being left behind, did the calculation faster than anyone else could. "Right after I was attacked."

"Give or take a few hours," Campbell agreed. "Do you think…?"

"They're connected," Hotch said quietly. He'd made the connection between spooking Emily and loud noises. He didn't want to see that again. He didn't want her to be afraid of him. Not now. A couple of days ago she'd been the opposite. A couple of days ago she'd been willing to show weakness, willing to use him for the comfort he knew she'd desperately needed. And he was more than willing to provide that for her. So much so that he wanted to do it again. "Do we have an ID?"

"No wallet, no ID. Just an iPod," Campbell replied

"She was out for a run," Emily said unnecessarily. "Even if it is our guy, it's not the MO. She just looked brutalized, not tortured."

"Make sure they get an SAE kit," Hotch murmured to Campbell, feeling Emily shiver as she ostensibly remembered her own attack. Hotch wasn't immune to it. Had Emily woken much later, he probably would have already… He didn't want to think about it and shook his head violently.

"You okay?" she murmured as the detective walked away to ensure the ME did as asked.

"Me?" he asked, before his brain could stop his surprise. She was asking him if he was okay? She was the one having nightmares. She was the one who had been attacked by their UNSUB.

"Yeah," she replied, turning only slightly, her eyes still on their Jane Doe.

Hotch knew the tactic, knew that whatever was going on in her brain she didn't want him to see it. Her mask was cracking and while part of him was happy to know the mask wasn't a flawless weapon, something stirred in his stomach at the idea that she wasn't infallible. It was an odd juxtaposition. On one side, the man in him was glad to see she wasn't a robot, that she could break just as he knew he could and resisted almost as much. The agent in him was absolutely terrified that she wasn't the rock she acted like for the large majority of the team.

"Just thinking," he replied.

"About?"

"By looks, she fits the victimology."

"For the most part," Emily agreed.

He saw her swallow, knew she was uncomfortable and knew there was little he could do right now to assuage her fears. Not in public, not in front of the team. Nevertheless, he stepped unconsciously closer. "So why did he attack her?"

"Opportunity?" Derek offered coming up in front of them. "This isn't that far from our hotel."

Emily shivered and Hotch stepped closer again. "Pure luck he comes across a woman that fits our victims' descriptions?"

"Which would say he's devolving," Reid said, pushing himself up from the nearby body. His hands went straight to his pockets.

"So long he's not focused on Em, I'm not particularly against him devolving," Derek said honestly.

Hotch was close enough to feel Emily's very slight wince. "We need to figure out how he chooses his victims."

It was the same thing they'd been saying for days now, ever since Emily had been attacked. How was Emily like the other victims? What did she have that they had? Why was she so convinced that they were missing a part of the victim profile?

* * *

_**Okay. I do know where I'm going with this now. I've set this up to perfectly address what I want to. Yay!**_

_**PS: I just feel I should tell you I've managed to update 4 stories today. Not all of them Criminal Minds, but 4 nonetheless. I'm hoping to update Growing Up BAU next! Well, along with For the Better. And for those of you who are reading this one and Growing Up BAU, I'm debating changing the title of that, so keep your eyes peeled. I'll try and indicate that I'm changing it in the summary if andor when I do.**_


	9. Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE

Their UNSUB had written a letter. A letter he'd sent to newspapers and the newspapers had published. Emily hadn't appreciated waking up to that. Derek had all but rushed to her side when he'd heard her toiletries hit the floor when she'd dropped to the bed. His eyes had flashed darkly when he understood what she was reacting to. Hotch hadn't seemed too pleased either when Derek had shown him the paper. Emily, however and thankfully, had ended up driving to the precinct with Dave. She didn't feel antsy around Dave and he hadn't been hovering over her, treating her like a fragile China doll.

This time, it was Hotch that stayed behind. She hadn't been sure of what she thought of that. She still wasn't sure how to react. Part of her wanted to be back in the field, wanted to prove that she was still an agent through and through and she didn't need this time to recover. On the other side, it was a lot for any person to handle. Back-to-back cases and Cyrus and the nightmares… it was piling up and logically, she knew that any person would break under pressure like that.

The agent in her thought differently. The agent in her fought back hard, told her that she could do better, that she had done better, that she wasn't just 'any person' she was an elite agent in the FBI. The agent and the ambassador's daughter were on the same side, telling her to put that mask in place, that she was a better person than that. That she was stronger than that.

They worked in companionable silence, Emily trying not to remember the words in the paper while simultaneously trying to figure out what was nagging at the back of her mind. And yet her mind kept coming back to the letter and their UNSUB's particular choice of wording.

_Do not expect to escape twice. Women like you do not deserve the position you hold. Promotions should be given on merit and nothing else. You will be mine. None of your unsuspecting colleagues will be able to save you. _

Her brain was stuck. 'Promotions based on merit'? 'Unsuspecting colleagues'? She knew the answer was in those words, even if she didn't want to remember them. She closed her eyes, resting her forehead on her open palms. All of this had to do with Carthey's diner. Carthey's, women… whores, promotions, unsuspecting colleagues… How did it all make sense? How did it all fit together? Something tingled. "Hotch, do you have a list of the people you interview for all of our victims?"

He slid the papers over to her, arching an eyebrow. "What is it?"

Emily glanced at the lists. She remembered Lauren Sheldon's team was made up of males. She was the unit chief. The names on the lists were all male. "I'm the only woman."

"What?"

She shook her head. "On the team. I'm the only woman on the team. Lauren Sheldon was the only woman on her team, and the boss. ADA is a high position and most of the people that worked with Kelly Wright are men. Jessica Malone, mainly male coworkers, same with Addison Howard."

She could tell by the glint in his eyes he knew where she was going with her analysis. "The latest victim?"

"Opportunity? She was out for a run," Emily said. "He was running from-" she swallowed, "From my crime scene. He crosses paths, he's already hyped up because he thought he had his next victim… she looks like the victims."

He nodded. "Makes sense."

"And now he wants me."

* * *

Hotch was worried about Emily. Really worried about her. And he wanted to do something for her. But he knew there was nothing he could do, nothing she would let him do. Now, however, it was really starting to bother him. She'd cried in his arms, sobbed into his chest and now… now she'd distanced herself from him. And he didn't like it.

It was an odd concept. He'd been feeling… _something_ for a while now, a something he couldn't exactly put his finger on. They were friends, sure, but this protective instinct was more than friendship. He wasn't stupid enough to delude himself into calling it anything other than a deep caring, but he knew it was more than friendship. And she was an attractive woman, it was easy to see that. He knew she didn't judge him, she'd proven that time and time again, working with him without coddling him and at the same time somehow managing to take care of him. She was everywhere at once and, now that he thought about it, nowhere he really wanted her.

Because she'd felt good in his arms that night. Sure, he hadn't been happy with the circumstances under which she was wrapped in his embrace, but she had felt good. And it hadn't been a major decision to try and get her ready bag from CSU, just something he did because he knew she'd appreciate it. Now that he thought about it, there were things that he'd started to do just because he knew she'd appreciate it. Just little things, like ordering her an extra coffee when she looked like she was having a bad day or ordering her meal because she had to run to the bathroom. They spent enough time together, him and her and the team in general, that he knew enough about her to do those things with ease.

They'd been working quietly together after she'd connected their victims and talked to JJ about issuing some sort of report to the media. He didn't like the silence. He wanted to talk to her about what she was going through, about the nightmares, about why it bothered him that she'd automatically turned to Derek for a roommate. But from his brief early morning discussions with Derek, she wasn't telling him anything either. While part of him thrilled that she wasn't confiding in Derek any more than he wasn't confiding in him, he didn't like that she was bottling things up. Hadn't this lead to all of this stress in the first place?

"Agent Prentiss?"

Even he looked up at her name. One of the officers assigned to the tipline looked guiltily at Emily.

"There's a call for you on the tip line. They'll only talk to you."

Her eyes were fearful when they met his, even though she managed to hide it quickly. "Put it through."

Hotch moved without thinking, coming around the table to sit beside her and slide the chair close. He wanted her to know that whatever fear she was feeling wasn't something she had to experience without support.

"Agent Prentiss."

There was silence for a moment. "I found you. And you won't get away again."

He saw her breath heave, her hands start to shake and reached out to take one without thinking. This was their UNSUB. It could only be their UNSUB. He snatched his phone off the table, shooting off a quick text message to Garcia, trying to get her to track the call before he hung up. To Emily's credit, she took a deep breath, though her hand squeezed his tightly.

"Who is this?"

"You know exactly who this is. I have marked you, you ladder-climbing whore."

"I have been accused of being many things, but never of sleeping my way to where I am."

Hotch admitted to pride at the steady tone of her voice. His phone started vibrating, showing Garcia's office number and he sighed. He didn't want to leave her side, not while she had to keep him on the phone, but he didn't have much of a choice, With a last squeeze to her hand and an absent kiss to her brow – something he didn't think twice about doing – he stepped outside.

"What is it Garcia."

"Half of the tiplines are open, sir, It's going to take a minute to pinpoint the right line."

"Make it fast, Garcia," he said, looking in at the rigid set of Emily's shoulders. The faster they could find this guy the more relaxed she'd feel. He made a mental not to ensure she took time off when they returned. Maybe it was time for all of them to get a break.

"Is everything okay?"

That was JJ"s voice, his mind registered absently. "Emily's trying to keep him on the line."

JJ's intake of breath told him everything he needed to know. Both women knew exactly what was happening.

"Got it, sir. Just a few more moments."

"Make it seconds."

"Doing my best," the technical analyst promised. He trusted she was. She wouldn't want Emily to go through this any longer than she had to.

"Damnit!"

He'd had to turn away from the room they'd been given to he could concentrate on the phone call. At Garcia's expletive he spun quickly to find Emily standing shakily from her chair and moving swiftly to the couch. She curled up there, knees to her chest and Hotch heaved out a sigh. "Find me the number, Garcia. Get me the number of that phone call."

"You'll know when I do, sir. Take good care of her."

He didn't have time to analyze how Garcia had known he was rushing to her side. All he knew was that Emily was hurting, probably hyperventilating, and he was the only one around to help.


	10. Chapter 10

CHAPTER TEN

He sat down beside her on the couch, wincing when she jerked away from his hand. "It's Hotch, Em. Just Hotch." He waited until her eyes met his, panicked and fearful, before reaching out for her again. "You have to calm down, breathe. In and out. Slow."

She shook her head vigorously. "He found me, Hotch. He's going to find me, he's going to get me."

He'd never heard her talk like this before. He'd never met this vulnerable Emily who didn't believe in herself or in them. How many times had she found some odd way to encourage the team without them actually realizing that she'd re-stabilized them? It was her confidence in each and every member of this team that gave them all something to strive for, at least in some way.

"No, Emily. He will not hurt you."

This headshake was more vehement, stronger. Tears started to leak from the corner of her eyes. "He knows I've been staying with Derek. He knows how I sleep."

"Em, honey, come on." His heart was starting to race. He couldn't get her to calm her breathing, slow the heaving of her chest. Her face was pale and her eyes wide and he suddenly felt terribly guilty for leaving the room to begin with. He pulled her against his body, wrapping an arm around her hips until her legs were thrown over his, his other tangling in her hair. He murmured into her ear, nothing important, just reassurances. Unlike Cycrus, this attack had deliberately targeted her.

"Nothing will hurt you," he whispered. "I promise you. Honey, nothing will hurt you. I will not let anything hurt you."

She was still shaking violently, her hands clenched in his suit jacket. She was whimpering softly where she'd buried her face in his neck. "He's going to find me."

"He will not," he swore strongly. "He will not get anywhere close to you, Emily. He will not."

"How can you be so sure?" she asked in a tiny voice.

"Because you have us, Emily, you have me. I promise you, honey, I am not going to let him hurt you."

If she heard the passion in his voice, the conviction, she simply took it as confidence and not the protective streak he felt for those he cared about because she didn't say anything or react any more than to curl tighter to him.

"We'll move you out of Derek's room, get you your own room under a name that isn't yours."

"No!" Emily swallowed.

Hotch understood without her having to tell him. She didn't want to stay by herself. He could understand that. "Okay, okay, sweetheart. We'll find a room with two beds. You can come and stay with me."

She was calming. Slowly, but she was. The hand tangled in her hair rubbed her back in soothing circles, up and down over her blouse. Her chest was slowing, her breath calming and he blew out a mental sigh of relief. "We'll make sure there's always someone with you, someone you trust. We will keep you safe, Emily."

If it was the last thing he did.

* * *

"Hotch, man, what happened?"

Emily, Dave and Reid had gone ahead into the restaurant Dave had chosen for dinner. Hotch had given the excuse of needing to make a call and Derek had stayed. "Our UNSUB called."

"Called?"

"The precinct," Hotch agreed with a nod. "I'm going to call JJ, see if they can find us a double room on a higher floor. I'm going to stay with her for a few nights."

"She agreed? What happened?"

It was moments like these Hotch realized the type of team he'd put together. They were a team that supported each other regardless and never saw another teammate as anything more than human. They loved each other like a family.

"She had a panic attack," he answered. "The whole thing. I promised her we'd make sure nothing would happen to her."

"So you're moving her out of my room?"

"He knows she's been staying with you. Which means he's been watching the hotel."

Derek nodded. "Probably watching her every move."

"She goes nowhere by herself, Derek, not even to the bathroom, I don't care how annoyed she gets. We will keep her safe."

Derek raised an eyebrow. "Of course we will, Hotch. Is everything okay with you?"

Hotch blew out a breath, running a hand through his hair. "Fine."

"What's going on with you, man?" Derek asked, narrowing his eyes. "Don't think I haven't been watching, haven't seen you two spending more time together."

"So what, Derek, friends do that."

Derek just nodded, knowing better than to continue that kind of interrogation when his boss seemed so irritated. And tired. They were all tired, all exhausted and it wouldn't help if he kept trying to push his boss into confessing something most of the team had pretty much seen coming. Emily and Hotch… there had been more than a few interesting looks passed between team members when watching the two of them. And Hotch had rushed to Emily's side instead of after the UNSUB the night she was attacked.

Reid poked his head out of the front of the restaurant door. "Are you two coming? Emily's falling asleep on the table."

* * *

Part of Emily felt like she should have resisted sharing a room with Hotch. He was her unit chief, after all, and yet the other part of her was eternally grateful. She was already feeling guilty and terrible for keeping Derek up, for waking him almost hourly because of her nightmares. She hated feeling weak and that, really, was the crux of the matter.

JJ had managed to finagle a double room for them on a floor six floors above their original rooms. Now Emily was unpacking her ready-bag. Toiletries bag was in the bathroom – she'd dropped that off first because Hotch had wanted, and asked politely, to shower – and now she was trying to unpack the rest of her things. Hotch had voluntarily taken the outside bed without asking and she was thankful. She didn't want to risk being any more vulnerable than she already had.

Because now she'd cried in his arms, almost punched him in the jaw because he'd woken her from the beginnings of an uncomfortable dream and managed to have a panic attack he'd coaxed her through. Now he'd offered to share a room with her knowing that she wasn't okay. Why did he want to share a room with her when she knew she wasn't okay? Dare she hope that he wanted to stay with her _because_ she wasn't okay?

"You're still awake."

His voice made her spin quickly. He'd put trackpants on, but his chest was bare as he towel-dried his hair. Emily closed her eyes and breathed deep. She heard him sigh.

"Sorry. I don't usually forget to announce myself with you."

That made her brow wrinkle. "I'm sorry?"

He stopped a few steps from her. "You don't react as violently if you know someone's there," he said softly, not meeting her eyes.

Emily couldn't decide which was stranger, that he'd noticed that or that he didn't want to look at her while he said it. She fingered the collar of the t-shirt she had in her hand. "Sorry."

He met her eyes. "It's not your fault. There's no reason to apologize."

"Thank you," she said after a few moments of silence. "For doing this."

"For doing what?" he asked, reaching for the t-shirt he'd left on the bed.

"I don't… I mean, it's hard…" She blew out an annoyed breath. This wasn't going as she wanted. It was hard for her to admit that she didn't want to stay by herself. "Thank you for offering to stay with me."

He smiled slightly. "It's no problem at all Emily."

Except that he had no idea what he was in for,


	11. Chapter 11

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Moaning woke him first. He wasn't a notoriously light sleeper, but he didn't sleep like the dead either. After the moaning came whimpers. Which could only mean one thing: nightmares. But he had a room by himself, didn't he? _No,_ his mind reminded him. He was sharing with Emily Prentiss. And it was Emily that was having a nightmare.

She'd kicked the sheet and blankets off of her body, pooling where at the bottom of her bed with the exception of the one sheet that had twisted around her leg. But it was the way her t-shirt had ridded up that caught his eye and held it. The white bandage was there, over the burn that was still healing. It would scar, the ambulance personnel had told her, but it would heal if she took good care of it. He hadn't seen it since the night she was attacked but now, with the way the moon came into the room, the white bandage virtually shone.

Hotch kicked off his own blankets, flicking on one of the bedside lamps as he moved to her side. "Emily. Emily wake up."

She thrashed on the bed, crying out. "No! Get off me!"

He dodged the fist that came up at him. "Emily, wake up. Please, Em, wake up." He could feel his heart starting to race. It was breaking his heart to see her like this.

"Get off! Let go!"

He hadn't wanted to touch her, to pin her down. He wanted to avoid putting her in any sort of position that would remind her of the things she'd been though. His words, however, weren't helping. SO he reached out, grasping her shoulder to shake her. "Emily, you're having a nightmare. Wake up."

She bolted up in bed, chest heaving, collapsing back when her arms wouldn't hold her. He turned to turn on the other light ensuring the shadows that he knew splashed across his face wouldn't be as intense. Her eyes had fallen closed again. "Emily?"

Her eyes fluttered open. "Sorry."

"Stop apologizing," he told her, taking one of her hands from where she'd settled them on her stomach.

She pursed her lips. "I woke you up."

"Emily, it's okay."

"Talk to me."

Hotch wrinkled his brow. "What?"

"Talk to me. About anything. Just… distract me."

What was he supposed to say? What was he supposed to talk about? She'd put him on the spot. "Tell me a story."

"You're turning this around on me."

"You put me on the spot," he replied. He waved to the bed. "May I?"

She shifted, nodding.

He slid in beside her, pulling the blankets around them both. He took her hand again, pulling it across his lap. "Plus, you've been to so many more interesting places than I have."

"At what cost?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Cost?"

"Hotch come on," Emily replied, rolling her eyes. "Do you want to have _that _conversation now? Do you remember our first conversation about politics?"

"I do," he promised. Of course he remembered that conversation. How could he forget a conversation where she was a) borderline subordinate and b) when her eyes flashed like that? Haley or no Haley, now that he was thinking about her almost constantly, he'd realized his attraction to her had been a long time coming. "That doesn't mean you haven't been to fantastic places, Em."

Much to his surprise, when she took her hand back, she took his with it, spreading his hand over her thigh. She focused her gaze on their hands, hers ghosting over his skin, tracing the fingers on top of the bedspread. "I went to Rome once."

"I hear it's a beautiful city."

"It is," she agreed. "My dad was supposed to join me."

"I thought this was going to be a happy story."

"Sorry. It's just…. I wasn't the first time he did it. He sent my cousin Adam instead."

He watched her continue to inspect his hand, ignoring his body's firing at the thought of the skin beneath it. "Were you close with your cousin?" He wasn't sure when or if he was going to get this kind of opportunity again, this kind of opportunity to delve into who Emily Prentiss was.

"Not at all," she said, shaking her head. "At least, not with Adam. Robin and I went on a road trip through the southern states my sophomore year at Yale. Thelma and Louise had nothing on us."

"What about Adam?"

"He had a tendency to leave me behind. My dad sent him so I wouldn't be alone in a foreign country and all, then he would get into so much more trouble than I could ever _dream_ of being in. I spoke better Italian than he did anyway."

"You speak Italian too?" It really shouldn't have surprised him since her background was in linguistics.

Emily shook her head with a little laugh. "But I do speak fluent Spanish. Close enough. But don't say that to an Italian."

He chuckled. "So it wasn't a favourite."

"No, but a good trip, in the end. In some ways. I bailed Adam out of an Italian jail," she offered.

She was cuddling into his arm now, her body relaxing as exhaustion took hold again. He slid his arm behind her to keep it from going numb. She adjusted with him and while one of her hands continued tracing his, the other curled into his t-shirt. He smiled at the childish nature of the gesture. She was falling asleep again. He couldn't decide if he wanted her to.

"It's why I have trust issues."

He arched an eyebrow at how easily that had slipped from her mouth. He knew she did, a side-effect of his job, he swore. He didn't expect her to admit it. "Because your father abandoned you in Rome?"

She giggled, grasping his hand as she curled into him more. "You wouldn't abandon me in Rome, would you, Hotch?"

Could that have been amore loaded question? "Of course not, Emily. I wouldn't abandon you."

"Of course not. You're here."

Her voice was starting to trail off. He hunkered down further, taking her with him. Vanilla and coconut saturated his nose between her and her pillow and yet there was still that underlying tang of laundry detergent, probably of the hotel. He wondered absently what _her_ sheets would smell like. "Yeah, honey. I'm here."

And there was nowhere else he wanted to be at that moment.

* * *

**_I hadn't expected to finish this tonight. No word of a lie. And I usually wait longer to post them even when I finish them because... well... It makes more sense? Heck. I have no idea._**

**_So, FotoBridget2, here is the next one, and though I have a gut feeling I did not get it up before you went to work, it is up! _**

**_Methinks the next chapter will be focused on the case. Which means Emily, but still the case!_**


	12. Chapter 12

CHAPTER TWELVE

With every possible interview line exhausted, including those at Carthey's, the staff of which hadn't seen Harry Cademon in a few days, the team sat back in the precinct to man the tip lines while JJ coordinated with media from Quantico. Hotch was in the conference room, doing his own fair share of calling, trying to get in touch with anyone that could have known Harry Cademon and darting glances at the couch every once in a while. For, after some serious convincing by every member of her team, Emily had reluctantly agreed to a nap on the couch.

"How is she doing?"

Hotch looked up as Dave entered the room, the older man's eyes fixed on the only woman in their midst. "Sleeping, which is a start."

"How are the nightmares? You look exhausted."

"Thanks, Dave," Hotch replied with a wry smile, wiping a hand over his face. In some ways he was jealous of Emily's ability to sleep. In others, he knew he'd never be able to sleep until this guy was caught and he knew Emily was safe. "They come nightly."

"Understandably so," Dave agreed. "How are you holding up?"

"Me?" Hotch asked in confusion.

"I saw the way you looked at those pictures, Hotch."

The unit chief sighed. "I'm worried," he admitted, as candid about the whole situation as he'd ever been. If he couldn't trust Dave, who could he trust?

"Who isn't?" Dave agreed. "No one should have to go through what she's going through. Especially back to back."

However, Hotch could see something else in the older profiler's eyes and knew he hadn't answered the question Dave had really wanted to ask. "But that wasn't the answer you were looking for."

Dave smiled slightly. "Why are you worried? Or maybe the better question to ask is why are you worrying so much?"

"Dave, I'm tired, exhausted even and as you mentioned I look like hell. What do you want to know?"

"Whether or not you've admitted to yourself that you're in love with Emily Prentiss."

Hotch blinked. "What?"

"We're not blind, Hotch," Dave said. "Though maybe you are. To us, it's obvious. To her… well, she's not sure what to do with you."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"We've been watching her, closely," Dave pointed out as he took a seat at the table. "She feels safe with you, but she doesn't trust you like she does Derek."

_Thanks for reminding me,_ Hotch thought to himself, managing not to sneer. "Where are you going with this?"

"Nowhere in particular," Dave admitted. "Just pointing it out, seeing if you've figured it out yet. I know she has."

Hotch reached up to massage his temples. This was giving him a headache. "Dave…"

A whimper cut off whatever Hotch was preparing to say. His eyes darted over to fix on Emily, to watch and make sure she wasn't having a nightmare. He sighed when she started shaking, cowering back into the couch cushions. He didn't think about Dave when he stood to crouch down by the couch, shushing her softly as his hand ran through her hair. He'd done the same for her last night when the nightmares had taken hold again. He hated seeing her like this.

It didn't take him long to get her back into some semblance of a comfortable sleep and he was thankful she hadn't woken completely. Dave had a knowing sparkle in his eyes when Hotch turned back. "What does it matter?"

"Ah, here comes the speech on why relationships within a team aren't a good idea."

"It's more than that and you know it," Hotch snapped. "It's about _her_ about what kind of effect that would have on her job and on her career. Do you have any idea how hard she fought to get to where she is?"

"Do you?" Dave replied.

Hotch nodded. It had been one of their topics of conversation to keep her mind off of her nightmares. It hadn't done a good job, but it had been something. She was so much more candid when she was half asleep and dead with exhaustion. "I'm not going to take her down. I can't do that to her."

"What if that was the decision she made?"

"What does that mean?"

"It means that Emily's known she's in love with you for longer than you've even considered being attracted to her."

"What?"

"You really are blind, aren't you," Dave said, almost scathingly. "You've got a woman there who is smart, attractive, funny, loyal… everything and you've missed her the whole time."

Hotch looked over at Emily's sleeping face. "I haven't missed her at all."

Dave felt a grin tilt the corners of his mouth at Hotch's quiet admission. He knew that, knew that Hotch hadn't missed Emily in the slightest. He was just hoping the younger man would finally see that there was a woman who matched him to a tee available for him if he wanted it. Heck, even Dave would pull in a few favours to make sure that happened if it meant both of his colleagues happy. If anyone deserved it, it was Emily and Hotch.

"But I won't."

Well, logically Dave knew that. He knew that it wasn't going to be an easy path to follow. Nothing with Emily ever was and the Bureau, well, they never made things easy. "You're hiding behind the Bureau."

"I'm not hiding," Hotch said. "I'm not going to ask her to choose between the job and me. And that's even assuming you're right."

"He's right."

Both men looked up to see Derek in the doorway, eyes on Emily. Hotch almost groaned.

"Sorry, man. I was coming in to check on her." He tilted his head to the side slightly, regarding his unit chief. "And didn't she do it once already?"

Dave's eyes widened gleefully.

"What are you talking about?" Hotch asked, shaking his head.

"Milwaukee."

It made his blood run cold. He hated those weeks. "What about it?"

"Well, she quit, didn't she? Was going to take the State Department exams."

Dave arched an eyebrow. "I didn't know about that."

"It was before you joined the team," Hotch murmured quietly, his eyes fixed on Emily. He remembered that event, remembered that exact moment when she looked Strauss in the eye and told her she was leaving the BAU effective immediately. The news hadn't been for him to hear but for Strauss. It hadn't taken him long to understand what Emily _wasn't_ saying. And she hadn't denied it when he'd confronted her with the information.

Was Derek right? Had there been something then? Had he realized it? Of course he hadn't realized it, he was still married, still fighting for Haley. And yet when it came down to it, he'd chosen the job, and indirectly her. He'd gone to her, told her that she needed to be on this team, that she needed to be in the BAU. And she'd gone to Milwaukee. He'd asked her to go to Milwaukee and she'd gone. And one last case had turned into where they were today.

"So this has been longer than I thought it coming," Dave said, leaning back in his chair as his lips twitched.

Hotch didn't want to talk about it. He _really_ didn't want to talk about it. Especially with Emily so close and likely to wake up because of a nightmare.

"Freeze!"

"Don't move!"

Dave, Derek and Hotch were on their feet in seconds, racing out of the room, their guns in hand. Reid ran the other way, into the room and to Emily's side. Hotch was almost thankful for it because after Garcia had hunted down the DMV photo, there was nothing in Hotch's mind that didn't identify the man holding a gun to another officer's head as Harry Cademon.


	13. Chapter 13

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Hotch went on alert immediately knowing that Emily was still asleep. He prayed to God she stayed that way, just for a little bit longer, just until they could get this all ironed out and dealt with. The last thing he needed was for her to throw herself into this mix. The last thing he wanted was for her to feel responsible for anything that was about to happen in this room.

"Henry, you're surrounded by marksmen," Dave began. "Put down the gun."

"I want her," Henry called back, shielding himself from the officers with the one he held hostage. "You give her to me and I'll give him back."

Hotch exchanged a look with Dave and an almost imperceptible shake of the head. Emily was going to stay asleep through all of this. "We can't do that, Henry."

A smirk blossomed over their UNSUB's face. "I wouldn't give up a little piece like that either. Then again, I'm probably too low on the food chain for her to even look at me. Tell me, is Agent Prentiss good in bed?"

"I wouldn't know," Hotch replied. "We're not that close."

"Bullshit!" Henry yelled, pushing the gun further into the young officer's temple. "She's got you in her sights, I saw it."

"What you saw was a friend comforting a friend," Dave tried soothingly. "Agent Prentiss is damned good at what she does. She deserves to be here on merit."

Henry Cademon blinked almost in awe. "She got to you too. Holy shit she got to you too!"

This was not going the way Dave or Hotch would have liked. Hotch had to take a deep breath, remind himself that he had to stay calm. They needed a new angle, a new plan of attack. "So what if she did?"

Cademon blinked. "What?"

"So what if Agent Prentiss found someone she works with?" he asked slowly, lowering his gun. "What does it matter?"

"Because you're not the only one's she's opened her legs to!" Cademon exclaimed. "Whores like her don't stop at one."

"You seem to know a lot about the type of woman Agent Prentiss is," Dave said, catching on to where Hotch was going and lowering his weapon. The other officers followed. "What else? What else do we obviously not know about her?"

Cademon's gun faltered. "They're all the same, whores like her. They use men like tissues, throwing them out when they've done their duty, when the whore has climbed as far as she can and sets her sights on the next superior. Then companies throw out people who work harder, put in more hours."

Hotch knew they were no longer talking about Emily and her perceived relationship with the men she worked with. They were talking about triggers, they were talking about the woman who had changed his entire outlook on females. "That was you, wasn't it? The man that got left behind because a woman had slept around to get ahead."

"I was a better worker. I worked longer hours, got more done."

Cademon was getting more and more agitated. They needed to get the gun out of his hand. He could see Cademon pressing the barrel of the gun further into the head of the officer he held hostage. "And you never got rewarded."

"Exactly!" Cademon's face was turning red with anger. "That bitch got promoted and I got fired."

Hotch nodded slowly. "And the only job you could get was at Carthey's"

"I could see it in the eyes of those whores. I could tell what they were doing, that they were sleeping with the men they were with. They were all too close for it to be anything else. There was nothing else it could be."

Cademon's finger was tightening on the trigger. Hotch could see it happening and he knew that since all of the officers had followed his lead in setting down his weapon, there was no way they were going to be able to stop Cademon from putting a bullet into the Columbus officer's head.

So when the shot rang out, he was surprised. He actually felt the bullet whiz passed him. He saw Henry go down, a bullet in his shoulder and saw the rest of the officers move in while he was still down. Then he was turning to find Emily with her gun still up, finger still on the trigger, a deadly determined look in her eyes. Derek was by her side first, taking the gun from her hand.

"You missed," he teased.

"Nope," she replied and Hotch was surprised at the upbeat tone of her voice. "I'd rather see him fry on the stand than die quickly because of a bullet to the brain."

The fingers of her left hand, the hand away from Derek, were clenched in a fist, knuckles white and Hotch knew that this was far from over.

* * *

They were on the plane before he got a chance to talk to her. Each one of them had gone about their jobs, mostly without words and she was packed before he got back to the hotel room. Now, however, she was absently staring out of the window of the plane. He knew she wasn't actually watching the clouds pass. The rest of the team was pretty much asleep, Derek and Reid with headphones in, Dave dozing in a far corner. So he sat down beside her, there to do nothing but remind her that he was around to support her.

"I didn't miss," she said after a few moments of silence.

He wasn't surprised she knew he was there. He also knew that there was no may she had missed. He'd seen her qualification scores. Emily Prentiss didn't miss. "I know."

"I didn't want to. Shoot him, I mean. But I didn't want to... live knowing he was out there or knowing that I could stop him from putting a bullet in an officer's skull."

"Emily," he said, taking her hand. "You don't have to explain yourself to me."

"I have to explain myself to me," she replied, absently, her eyes still fixed out the window.

He took both of her hands, focusing her attention on his instead. "You're not invincible."

She smiled slightly. "I know. Still..."

"Still nothing, Emily. Everyone breaks sometimes."

"And how many of them break in front of their boss?" She sighed. "Thanks, by the way. For being there."

"Of course," he replied. He wanted to tell her that there was nowhere else he'd rather be, but he wondered if it was too early in whatever relationship they were building towards to tell her. That didn't mean he wasn't going to push the envelope just that little bit. "I like being there for you."

Her eyes were more aware than he'd expected when she looked at him. "I'm glad you have been," she said softly. Her hands squeezed his.

He tugged, not surprised when she followed his urging, resting her head on his shoulder. "How are you holding up?"

"I'm okay, Hotch. Really."

Her voice had taken on that lilting quality he now recognized as the one that came out when she was falling asleep. Days trying to lull her back to dreamland had taught him a lot about her. He tried not to chuckle at the whole thing. "The only thing you're doing by saying that, sweetheart, is attempting to convince yourself."

She snuggled closer, one of his hands pulling out of his to fist in his jacket. The other stayed locked in his. "I don't think I'm doing a good job."

Her breathing evened out quickly, so Hotch didn't reply, just watched her sleep. He hated that she was doubting herself, that all of this had made her doubt herself. He wanted to find a way to help her, to make her see that everyone broke down sometime. No one was perfect, no one was stone. He was ready to do everything he could to prove to her that it was okay to lean on someone.

And he wanted to be that someone to lean on.

* * *

**_As this stands, it's done, but I'm tossing around the idea of a sequel that focuses on the building relationship between Em and Hotch. We'll see what happens. I really didn't want to take away from the case nature of this story, but I do want to build this relationship. _**

**_Thanks to everyone who has left me a review. It means a lot, as it always does, to know that there are people enjoying reading this probably as much as I enjoy writing it. Thanks guys!_**


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